Memories
by Winterblazewolf
Summary: Two pair of couples during the times of the war. Harry/Blaise. Dean/Seamus.
1. Seamus

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its character.**

_In this world you tried_

_Not leaving me alone behind_

_There's no other way_

_I'll pray to the gods let him stay_

_The memories ease the pain inside_

_Now I know why_

Seamus tiredly dragged his feet along the floor of the deserted corridor. With each step he took, there was a loud echoing. He simply did not care whether Filch was just around the corner. Frankly, he really did not care about anything anymore. He only wanted his lover to be with him.

There were dark circles around his eyes from lack of sleeping and his eyes were also red from the countless nights he spent crying. His hair was unkempt, with his fringe covering most of his eyes. The light of joy that had once been in his eyes was totally gone. His appearance was ragged and he looked like the living dead.

His robes were messily arranged. His red and gold Gryffindor tie was hanging loosely around his neck. His pants were hung lowly around his hips but he did not bother with pulling them. He simply did not care how he looked anymore.

Besides, most people in Hogwarts looked like he did as of late. He was just one of the worse cases as he had once heard Professor McGonagall said to Professor Flitwick apart from Zabini. He honestly thought it was only a matter of time before one of them- the students that is- collapsed. Even some Slytherins were not looking so good, especially Zabini.

Sometimes, Seamus pitied them. They did not choose to be on the 'dark side' of the war. It was because of their parents and he was somewhat certain that they would not have chosen the Dark Lord's side if they had a choice, though they would have punched him or worse if he ever dared say that to them.

Seamus had started wondering occasionally what it would be like to be a Slytherin. Half way through his musings, he decided that he probably was happy- no, extremely jovial- that he was not a Slytherin. Who actually knew what they had to go through? Besides themselves of course.

He had also wondered what has caused Professor McGonagall to say that Zabini was once of the worse cases. He never really did notice Zabini before only until recently. He, of course, realised Zabini's terrible appearance as well but had merely thought- in a rather bias way- that Zabini was busy with affairs concerning the Dark Lord.

Unconsciously, Seamus' feet had brought him out of the castle and into the tall tower of the Owlery. He stopped dead in his track at the front door. It was freezing and he was not really wearing anything warm but he once again, did not care. He stood there for a long time before allowing himself to enter the Owlery.

He reached out and touched the freezing cold brass handle of the door. He could not say that he was not slightly surprised that he did not shiver at all. He probably was already immune to the cold. He believed that nothing in this world could hurt him anymore. Sure, he might scream if the pain was too intense but nothing could be compared to the hurting he harbours deep down in his heart.

Pushing down the door handle, he pushed opened the door. It made a scraping sound against the floor and some of the owls shifted slightly. He then entered the Owlery slowly as if expecting something or rather someone to be in there, waiting for him. He crept quietly towards the widows, careful not to make any unnecessary noises that might stir the owls.

Breathing in the air that the slight breeze brought, Seamus closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of relaxation for a little while. He did not feel like opening his eyes and returning to the dreadfully realistic world. He wanted to remain like this; carefree and happy without having to worry for his life or his lover's life every second of the day.

Having Amycus Carrow and Alecto Carrow as new teachers in the school was definitely torture. An average of at least twenty pupils was being given detention every day. That was a lot of people, considering that most students did not return to Hogwarts that year. Of course, Seamus was one of those pupils sometimes.

Honestly, he saw it as torture time. Detention was really a much, much kinder way of putting it. He hated them with a burning passion, as did other students except the Slytherins. Somehow, he was beginning to think that some of the Slytherins hated them too.

He opened his eyes and let out a long, slow sigh. The war was taking a toll on everyone and he knew it. Both the good side and the bad side were suffering. No, it was unfair to call the Slytherins the bad side but Seamus seriously did not know what to call them instead.

He sighed again. He remembered that night... that _dreadful _night. That night when Dean left him. He knew that Dean did not want to and that there was no choice but he could not help but feel angry at Dean. Looking back, it seemed such a childish thing to do.

He had remembered everything from that night. The way Dean kissed him, hugged him. The words Dean said and his expression and tone of voice when he said those words were etched deeply in Seamus' mind and heart and would probably remain there forever.

"I love you, Seamus. If I had a choice, I would not leave but I don't. I want to stay but I'll probably get killed and I don't want you to grieve over me. Once this damned war is over, I'll be back and before that, I promise you, I won't die. If I leave, I have a chance to live for our future. Promise me, wait for me," Dean had said softly as he held Seamus close to his chest tightly.

Finally, after a few minutes, Dean had pulled away from the embrace and walked away. He did not turn back for fear he would not bear to leave. He did not say goodbye, for it was not goodbye. He would see Seamus later and he was sure of it.

Seamus had stayed where he was, watching Dean walk away until he was nothing more than a spot. He had collapsed to his knees and cried.

He remembered that he had knelt beside the river and prayed. He had prayed fervently that Dean was only joking and that he would come back. He had prayed that Dean could stay. He had prayed that Dean would appear suddenly out of nowhere. He prayed and prayed, for how long he did not know.

When the sun came out from behind the hills, he knew that it was useless. Dean had gone and he would not come back until the war was over. But he _would _come back, as he promised. Seamus then left that place and went back home as if nothing had happened, keeping the pain inside his heart.

"I'm still waiting for you, love..." he whispered softly into the wind, hoping that it would carry his message to his lover, to Dean.


	2. Dean

_All of my memories keep you near  
In silent moments  
Imagine you'd be here  
All of my memories keep you near  
Your silent whispers, silent tears  
__  
_Dean smiled as he watched a couple walk down the sandy beach, hand in hand, smiling sweetly at each other. In front of them, a child was walking ahead, with a few beautiful sea shells in his small hands. He suspected that they were a family.

The sun that hung happily in the sky was going to set soon. The sky was a soft orange hue, making it seem that the world around it glowed. What a picturesque sight! In just a few moments, it would slowly go down, as if it was sinking into the sea.

Dean breathed in deeply and hurriedly pulled out his drawing pad. With skilled movements, he started to draw the setting sun. After a few minutes, he added the colours, mixing yellow with orange to form a soft glowing colour. In no time at all, the drawing was competed and he smiled at it in satisfaction.

It was yet another wonderful job well-done to add to his collection of drawings. He could not wait to them to his lover when he can finally go back. During the few months since he left, he had been drawing a lot. It was the only thing that can distract him from thinking about his love, Seamus.

No sooner had he packed up than the sun finally disappeared from the sky, only to be replaced by a bright full moon and a starry night. He stared up at the sky and admired the view. He could only think of one word; beautiful.

He smiled a bittersweet smile. The starry night reminded him of Seamus and he was happy. However, it also reminded him that his love was not here. He remembered how Seamus loved the stars and how he would make Dean go star gazing with him at least once a week. He chuckled as he recalled those fond memories. There was even one time when they had fallen asleep on the rooftop!

Dean left the beach and made his way slowly to the apartment he was staying at. He was now in the Muggle world to hide. There was no place in the Wizarding world for him to hide. Muggle-borns were killed on the spot 

once found and he was not going to take that risk, not if he wanted to see Seamus again.

His parents had given him enough money for him to rent a room from someone as he did not want to stay in his house. He was afraid that He-who-must-not-be-named or the death eaters would track him down and kill him as well as his family and as if he was going to let that happen. So, he went to Australia. He just hoped that He-who-must-not-be-named would not attack this place.

His mother had cried when he left but he could hardly blame her. After all, he only stayed for a short while before leaving right away. When she cried though, he was reminded of the person he had left behind. He sighed deeply. Now was not the time to be distracted.

He opened the door of the apartment and closed it before going straight to his room. His room was small. It had just enough space for a desk and a bed but he could not blame the owner. He was the one who did not have enough money. The owner was already kind enough to let him stay.

He opened the door to his room and walked in. The grey wallpapers were old and some of it had already peeled off. At least the floor was in a better condition. He placed his drawing pad onto the desk and retrieved another one from the drawer. He smiled at it fondly.

Taking off his shoes, he clambered onto his bed and rested his head against the wall. He then opened the drawing pad and started browsing through the pictures, his eyes shining with glee.

That drawing pad was filled with drawings of his beloved, his Seamus. They were the pictures he had drawn over time and this was the latest drawing pad. The drawings in there were all purely from memory. He had started this drawing pad on the first day he left.

Truth to be told, he was actually afraid. He was afraid that by the time the war was over, he would no longer recognise Seamus, whether Seamus had changed or not. But now, he knew that that worry was redundant. He would never forget how Seamus looked like, not one single bit.

He picked up a pencil and starting drawing a picture of Seamus again. He sketched the face swiftly, remembering every single detail. Using an eraser to erase off the not so perfect parts, he redrew them until it was perfect.

He then started on the body. Slowly, he made his way down to the legs and soon it was complete. Dean smiled at it but then frowned. There was something wrong though he could not pin point it. After a moment, he realised what the problem was. The lines of the shorts were a bit too light and out of shape.

He erased off those parts and redrew them. Smiling in satisfaction at his completed work, Dean put the drawing pad away, locked safe in his drawer. He proceeded to lie down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

He really missed Hogwarts. The food, the nights where the five of them, Seamus, Ron, Harry, Neville and himself, would stay up late chatting and playing games. He missed the staircases that moved and the ghosts and talking portraits. Hell, he even missed lessons and the teachers. Well, some of them.

He sighed. All of those dreams seem so far away now. It seems as if they could never come back. Not that he did not believe that Harry would lose to You-know-who or anything of the sort but he just did not know. Everything was too complicated now. What was he to do?

He wished he could help in the war instead of being on the run and acting like a fugitive but there was no way he could do that. His magical powers could not compare to Harry and he had no experience whatsoever fighting the Death Eaters. But still, he wished he could make a difference, no matter how small it may be.

He was certain that the only thing keeping him alive now was the thought that one day he would be reunited with Seamus again. If Seamus died, life would be meaningless for him.

The life he led now was terrible. He was constantly on the run and could rarely find a place to stay. He was lucky this time though. He could not practise magic either as he was still under age or they would be able to track him down. It made travelling around all the harder. He would actually have to know how to cook. He silently thanked his mother for teaching him when he was younger.

Another reason he wanted to stay alive so badly was that he did not want Seamus to be sad about his death. He knew that Seamus would not want to live either if he died. It was because of this that he worked so hard to stay alive.

He loved Seamus more than anyone could ever imagine. Sometimes, even he himself did not know.

Closing his eyes and preparing to go to sleep, Dean let his mind wander to the time when everything was alright and all they had to worry about was tests and exams. He dreamt about school and his friends that night. And most importantly, he dreamt of Seamus.

TBC


	3. Blaise

_Made me promise I'd try  
To find my way back in this life  
I hope there is a way  
To give me a sign you're okay  
Reminds me again it's worth it all  
So I can go home_

Blaise walked down the corridor, looking deathly pale. It was probably already pass midnight. He did not know; he did not care. How long had he been wandering around the hallways anyway? One hour? Two hours? Maybe even five... who cares?

He was a mess and he knew it. But he did not care. He hardly cared about anything nowadays anyway. Nothing seemed worth caring to him. He did not even care that bloody Voldemort had taken over Hogwarts and that lots of students were being tortured every day. In all honesty, he only cared about one thing. And that was Harry.

He heard a noise and he looked up slowly. Surprise was written all over his face as he saw Harry standing in front of him, just a few metres away. He was smiling that gentle smile and his eyes were soft.

Suddenly, he turned and walked away. Blaise's eyes widened and he ran after Harry.

He ran and ran but. Running through corridors and past classrooms, he looked. Searching frantically, he looked left and right, seeking. He finally ended up at the Astronomy tower.

Walking to the window, he laughed shortly. A short, bitter laugh. He was hallucinating. Of course he was! How could he not be? How could Harry be in Hogwarts anyway? He was stupid, stupid to believe that Harry was in the school. Besides, the security was tight. It seemed almost impossible for anyone to leave, not to mention enter.

With a startling realisation, he realised that this was the place he first met Harry. Well, not literally. It was the place where he first met Harry as Harry. Not as the boy who lived; not as a stupid Gryffindor; not as just another person who is a waste of space on this earth. No, it was there that he met Harry as a _person_.

He had not exactly been friendly the first time they talked. Of course there was the exchange of insults and the not too friendly snarls and glares. However, Harry had simply rolled his eyes and stated that what they were doing was childish and just sat opposite him on the window still.

Blaise had been shocked. He had not commented and they sat there for hours before they went back to their respective common rooms. Needless to say, Blaise had been even more shocked when Harry had asked whether he would be going to the Astronomy tower the next day. He had nodded a yes.

The next night, Blaise had turned up and found that Harry was not there. He had cursed himself for being stupid and hoping that Harry would be coming. He had cursed and cursed himself, wondering why he had wanted to see the Gryffindor so badly anyway.

Well, luckily he was cursing everything in his head, for it would be really embarrassing if Harry caught him doing that. Halfway through his mental ranting, Harry had actually come in and apologised for being late.

They eventually started meeting each other almost every night and it came as no surprise to either of them when they started going out. How it happened was still a blur though. Blaise was just glad it did.

Blaise had told Harry his problems about everything. He had told Harry how sick he was with life. How he had passed every single day as if they were a necessity and that if he had a choice, he would have rather died.

Harry had been rather angry when he told him that he was sick with life though Blaise was not really surprised. It was understandable. After all, Harry did not have the chance to grow up with his parents. Blaise, at least, still had his mother, who despite marrying several times, still loves Blaise a lot and was also trying desperately to make Blaise happy.

Harry had spent a good hour or so lecturing Blaise how important life was and how many people would wish to live but did not have a chance. He had told Blaise that life was something that God had given them and that they should be cherished. Blaise never knew that Harry was Catholic.

Blaise sighed as he was brought back to the present by a gust of cold wind. It was winter. It was freezing but Blaise apparently did not have enough sense to wear a coat or a jacket. He wore nothing but his school robes. He felt the harsh cold wind biting into his skin but he, as usual, did not care.

It was amazing what a war could do to people.

The students in Hogwarts were like the living dead. Every single one of them, save the Slytherins, had detention at least ten times before and of course those who stood up to The Carrows had more detentions, which really was just a time for the two psychotic death eaters to torture the students. The other teachers could only do so little.

Blaise sighed. He was rather lucky he guessed. As a Slytherin and a pure blood, he was not subjected to those tortures. He felt a bit sorry for the other houses and disgusted at himself for using to despise them. Currently, he despised the Slytherins who were taking pleasure in the suffering of others.

However, he could not help but feel a pang of sympathy for the Slytherins themselves. Some of them did not want this war. Some of them were happy with the way things were. Some of them did not care about bloody purity. To them, it was bullshit. Who cared about all these stuff? Wasn't talent the more important thing? Wasn't harmony the most important thing?

Of course they would not dare to say these things out. They would be treated just like the other houses then and it would be even worse for them because no one would care. Why? Because they were still the same Slytherins who had made fun of the other houses. It did not matter if they had done it unwilling or not. All that mattered was that they were Slytherins and they _had_ done it.

"Mother, I wonder how you're doing," Blaise whispered to the wind. It the most he had said in months now.

Sighing, he turned away and trudged down the corridor.

"You, boy, stop there!" cheerfully called the voice of a certain Amycus Carrow with Alecto Carrow following close behind.

Blaise turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow. As much as he did not care, he would not give those two scums a chance of seeing him vulnerable. It would be unbecoming of a Slytherin and they might torture him as well.

"Yes, professors?" he asked, falsely cheerful.

"Oh, Zabini," Alecto said, rolling her eyes. "We thought you were a Gryffindor or some other kid. Run along."

Waving a 'goodbye' at them, Blaise turned a corner and hurried away till he could not feel them even relatively close.

Slytherins were given the privilege of wandering the corridors at night. In fact, they were allowed to do anything they wanted, including torturing the other students.

As much as some Slytherins love it, there were others who did not wanted to do it at all. Blaise, for one, saw no need to torture the other students who were the same age and younger than them.

'_Unbecoming of a Slytherin,' _Blaise thought, chuckling to himself mentally.

Harry told him that when he had insulted a Hufflepuff one night. He had said it in such a serious tone that Blaise actually thought he sounded like his mother but he kept that comment to himself.

"I'm scared," he mumbled as he collapsed against the wall. "I don't know what to do. Please come back soon."

TBC


End file.
